A Battle far from Home
by anndarrowsmonkey
Summary: Catriona wants to get away. Away from her boring life and her loving, but sometimes overwhelming family. Europe seems far enough, so she joins the Army as an interpreter. What started as a fabulous idea quickly turns into a nightmare. In the European battlefields she doesn't only find horror and loss, but also real friends and a smile to die for.
1. Prologue

**This is my first English fanfic, so please excuse eventual grammar mistakes (I try to avoid them, but it's still not my native language).**

 **This is also my first Band of Brothers fic. I only got into BoB this summer, but I was instantly hooked and have been having this story in mind for a longer time now.**

 **I obviously don't own Band of Brothers or its characters, neither do I intend to disrespect the real people it was based on.**

 **I already know that I won't upload regularly, sorry for that, but I'm studying, working and a real perfectionist (and also an incredibly slow writer).**

 **Here's a little prologue for you and I will upload the first chapter afterwards.**

 **If you like it, feel free to review!**

 **Enough talking, have fun reading this :)**

* * *

 **Prologue**

I was standing on the front porch, watching how the red glowing sun slowly rose over the snow-covered hills. I warmed my hands on a hot cup of black tea. This day was starting so peacefully. My mum was making breakfast in the kitchen while she was humming to a tune on the radio. My dad was just coming out of the stable, Runner trudging next to him through the snow. Everything seemed so normal, like nothing had ever changed since I had left my home over two years ago. But that wasn't true.

Everything had changed.

I had changed.

I caught myself again wondering what he was doing right now. If he had found peace after the war. Maybe he was waking up next to a pretty woman. They would drink coffee and he would smoke his first cigarette of the day. It hurt more than anything to imagine him with another girl, a girl that wasn't me. But if that meant he lived and loved, it would be alright for me.

Because even if we wouldn't spend our lives together, he deserved a wonderful life with lots of laughter and happiness to make up for those grim years we spend in a battle far from home.


	2. One Summer's Day

**As I promised, the first real chapter.**

 **It took a lot of effort, but I had so much fun writing.**

 **I hope you enjoy reading it and if you do, leave a review :)**

* * *

 **One Summer's Day**

The jeep grinded to a halt on the main road of the little village of Angoville-au-Plain, where the 101st had set up regimental HQ. Four days ago, the invasion of the Allies had taken place and now I briefly observed the hustle and bustle of the soldiers who pervaded the streets and alleys. I had been informed about the paratroopers of the American Airborne being scattered over half of Normandy, due to complications caused by the German anti-aircraft artillery. Meanwhile it seemed like increasingly more of them had found their way back to their units and were now waiting for orders.

I thanked my driver, who had long forgotten about me sitting in the back seat. After putting on my helmet, I jumped off the car. The busy street was teeming with soldiers of various ranks. They were shouting and laughing, some looked a little off, like they had not yet realised how they had gotten here. For the past months, I had helped to organize the invasion, translating correspondence of the French Résistance for the British and American commanders. This operation had been widely aspired by the oppressed French people and the allied forces. Still I couldn't quite believe that I was an actual part of this. After my departure from New York half a year ago I had worked with almost every regiment of the British and American armies. While I was strolling through the streets now, I revelled in all the different accents and broad gestures I heard and saw, finding a little piece of home in this strange place. I felt like drifting away for a moment, over an ocean and back to the familiar Kentucky hills. When I arrived at my meeting point, the provisional headquarter, I was almost disappointed.

Angoville-au-Plain was a tiny village that consisted more or less of a main road and the houses surrounding it. Nevertheless, it had a small village square, dominated by a lithic memorial for the soldiers killed in the First World War. On the steps leading up to the monument, a whole bunch of paratroopers had come to rest. Some were sleeping, others presented their loot. A small guy seemed very proud of about five watches covering his whole arm up to the elbow. On my way here, I had seen a few soldiers with Nazi flags. I could definitely conceive of a finer souvenir. Maybe some French delicacies? Cheese and wine?

Thinking of a nice meal, I felt my mouth watering. Since my feeble breakfast I hadn't come across having lunch, so it was no wonder I was hungry. After the meeting, I would have to organize some food, but for now I had to concentrate on my task. Deeply in thought, I had traversed the square and now stood in front of the barn, where I was to meet up with my superiors. As soon as I opened the wooden gate, I was greeted by Kenway's deep voice.

"Over here, Pritchett! We've been waiting for you!"

My eyes needed a moment to adjust to the subdued light coming through the small windows in the roof. As I hurried to the back of the barn, I took in the closeness and the smell of fresh hay that filled the air. In a corner stood a roughly manufactured table covered in maps and plans. A group of men had positioned themselves around it. I recognized only two faces.

Major Kenway was an angular brit I had already worked with a couple of times. He was impressively intelligent, derived from a military family and besides being a brilliant officer, he was also a real gentleman. I was delighted to meet him again, since he was one of the few officers who didn't condescend to me. I knew he appreciated my work and our collaboration was predicated first and foremost on mutual respect.

The second familiar face in this room was the complete opposite. The French officer Capitaine Ruquier apparently had an issue with self-confident women. Not that I had behaved disrespectful on purpose. I may had given my opinion from time to time without being asked… But honestly, that man simply couldn't handle his decisions being questioned by a woman. And like this, he had never missed the opportunity to put me in my place. He had let me report to his office at the most absurd times, come night or day. When I had finally finished the translations he had been asking for, he had come up with more useless tasks to keep me from sleeping. The work with him was just tiring.

As soon as I stopped in front of the group, I raised my hand to salute the officers, who returned my greeting. I took off my helmet while Kenway introduced me to the group.

"This is Corporal Pritchett, our interpreter. Pritchett, this is Colonel Sink."

I shook hands with a tall man, whose face was graced with an enormous moustache. He squeezed my hand so tightly I had trouble keeping my face straight. Kenway also presented the remaining attendees, whose names I could barely memorize. However, three men caught my eye, standing side by side. If I wasn't mistaken they were part of E-Company. They mainly attracted my attention because they formed such a strange trio. The tallest of them was a redhaired captain who was looking rather serious. Next to him stood a guy with black hair, who was slightly shorter and carried an amused expression on his handsome face. His thick eyebrows kind of impressed me. The group was completed by the shortest man with frizzy blond hair and a tooth gap, whose cheeky grin reminded me of an Irish goblin.

Apparently Kenway had mentioned before that their translator was female; normally my colleagues seemed somewhat more astonished by my gender. At the end of his presentation, Kenway unnecessarily introduced me to Capitaine Ruquier, who chose to ignore me deliberately. Considering I was only here because of him, this was coming on strong. Like most of the French officers, Ruquier could speak English well enough to communicate on a basic level. Yet he preferred to let a translator speak for him. Officially, he wanted to avoid mistakes. Unofficially, he thought of English as a horrid language and wasn't keen on talking to philistine Americans. Out of all the French officers he fortunately was pretty much the exception.

After the landings in Normandy a few days ago, the Army had already captured their first victories. The next objective was the village Carentan, only a few miles away from our current position. It was strategically of great importance, since two main highways forked around it. Those were needed for the American infantry troops to advance deeper towards the centre of France. At the moment, the place remained in the hands of the Germans, which was hopefully about to change in the next couple of days. The assignment of the 506th would be to warrant the supply and passing of the troops, which should be accomplished by taking and holding Carentan.

Everyone already knew the plans, but it was standard procedure to go through it all again. I was already prepared for a lengthy talk, as Ruquier repeatedly interrupted Kenway's explanations. Kenway fortunately knew how to handle the rude Frenchman and made him shut up quickly.

During the Major's entire speech, the Americans were most attentive and seemed surprisingly composed to me, considering they had just seen their first days of combat, which had been shattering from what I had heard.

After nearly an hour Major Kenway dismissed our group. Nodding to him shortly, I slid through the barn doors into the glistening sunlight of a cloudless afternoon. It was a lovely day in early June and despite the gentle breeze I quickly started sweating beneath my uniform. My task for today was fulfilled and I hadn't received any new orders, so I started contemplating where to find a half-decent meal in this village. Pondering, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on my face and the babble of voices on the square.

A few seconds later, I opened my eyes and almost jumped backwards, with two almost black irises staring into mine. I rapidly composed myself after realizing it was the dark-haired officer from E-Company. Well, maybe it wasn't as rapid as I had imagined, because he had trouble to hide a snicker. I tried to grin away the embarrassment of my jumpy behaviour.

"Pardon, Miss, I didn't want to startle you", he apologized, while I frantically searched his uniform for a name tag. Which of course wasn't there.

He had seemingly noticed the look on my face and put his hand forth. "Lieutenant Lewis Nixon, battalion S-2."

Relieved, I reached for his hand and introduced myself. "Corporal Catriona Pritchett." Yeah, like he didn't already know.

Nonetheless he smiled at me and said: "Catriona, what a beautiful name. Sounds Irish to me."

Woah, was this guy flirting with me? Not that I would complain, but…

Anyway, I nodded and told him that my parents descended from Ireland. His gaze was kind of intense, like he was dying to ask a question that seemed somehow too blunt. He couldn't contain his curiosity very well.

"Miss, if you don't mind me asking", Nixon raised an impressive eyebrow, "how did a dame like you end up in Nazi-ridden France working as an army interpreter? I was prepared for a lot of things, but putting a woman in a war zone was not one of them." He smiled almost shyly after that statement and I couldn't even be cross with him. He wasn't the first to ask that question. And I had heard it in more deprecative ways before.

Fumbling with my helmet, I just shrugged and answered truthfully. "I guess, my train of thought was the same as yours, Sir. I assumed my skills were needed more in a war against a megalomaniacal politician in Europe than at a law office in Lexington, Kentucky."

Nixon grinned from ear to ear at my response. "OK, sounds convincing. But didn't the army make a fuss about you being a woman? They tend to be quite strict about females in the army."

"Not really. I enlisted in '43 and at that time they were badly in need of competent and fluent translators for the French language, so I came in somewhat handy. Also, I didn't come to France entirely on my own. The army appointed me to assist a translator from South England."

Nixon raised his enormous eyebrows in surprise and began to look around seeking. "Really, I haven't seen him around… He wasn't at our meeting, was he?"

I wagged my head and felt my smile falter. The memory of D-Day plus one was still fresh and I doubted I could ever forget it. My first experience in what war was like.

"No, he isn't here. He was shot by a sniper the day we arrived here. Wrong time, wrong place, I guess. That's why I am your translator now."

Nixon looked stunned for a moment, but he quickly recollected himself. I guessed he had seen worse in the last days. But for me… it seemed to be burnt into my memory forever.

"I'm very sorry to hear that", Nixon began, but I just nodded.

"Yeah, it was pretty bad, but I hadn't known him that well. We had only been working together for two days. Still, the news of his death will hit his family hard. They must have assumed him to be safe…"

"Is that what your family thinks of you? That you're staying safely in some headquarter, far away from the front lines", Nixon asked seriously.

"It's better than scaring them for nothing. And I shouldn't complain, I will be in a lot less danger than you, Sir." I tried a lopsided smile, but we both must have worn some pretty serious faces at this assumption.

Nixon was first to cheer up the situation. "Well, I hope the men won't behave too obtrusive in your presence, some of them seem quite determined… speaking about ensnaring the women of Europe."

I cringed a bit and ensured him: "That won't be a problem. I have been working in the Army more than half a year now, and most of the guys can behave themselves. At first, it's always a bit strange for the men and myself, but we usually work it out. Also, I'm sure they will find enough amusement in France without bothering me."

Nixon grinned at me, "I'm gonna take that as a warning, Miss Pritchett." I snickered at his remark.

Our conversation was interrupted by Nixon's red-haired friend, who whistled in our direction. He had been immersed in a discussion with Kenway, now both were looking at us expectantly.

"Ah, that seems to be my sign to leave", explained Nixon dryly. Touching his helmet, he added, "I guess, this won't be the last time for us to meet. See you around, Corporal!"

He winked at me one last time and then I was alone again. Nevertheless, I felt content, because maybe I had just made a new friend. This Lewis Nixon seemed like a decent fella and it was usually an advantage to know the battalion staff. Still hungry, but in a better mood, I made my way back to where I had been dropped off, hoping to find some k-rations in the army jeep. If the soldiers had already left with the car, I would have to plague Kenway with my growling stomach. He would be delighted.

I chose not to put my helmet back on. The men would have to get accustomed to my presence and the sooner the better. Also my head always itched under the uncomfortable helmet. As I was walking past the war memorial, the group of paratroopers fell silent for a moment and then started whispering to each other suspiciously. I caught a few scraps of conversation, like "haven't seen her around before" and "I won't ask her, you go ask her". It was actually pretty funny.

My mind had already wandered back to my imagined meal, when I heard one of the guys say: "Ok fellas, watch and learn!"

I knew he was running after me, but I didn't stop until he touched my arm. I turned around with an irritated glance and looked at the man who had chosen to bother me.

"Hey Missy", he greeted me with a confident smile. He seemed about as old as me, had brown hair and dark eyes. He would have been cute if his greeting had been less degrading. I may have been a woman, but I was also a Corporal, for god's sake. He was looking my body up and down, which made me a little uncomfortable.

"Hey", I answered with raised eyebrows, not responding to his flirty tone at all.

"Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners", the guy excused himself, although he didn't look the least embarrassed, "I'm Sergeant Floyd Talbert."

He put out his hand and I grabbed it, rather by habit than by courtesy.

"Corporal Catriona Pritchett", I introduced myself, for what felt like the hundredth time this day.

Talbert winked at me, commenting: "A beautiful name for a beautiful lady."

My forehead wrinkled into confusion about his forwardness. Unlike the confident Sergeant in front of me, another soldier seemed to have sensed my irritation, stating: "My god, Tab, you're scaring the poor girl."

He got up from his seat on the steps and moved the protesting Talbert to the side, introducing himself with a broad accent: "Sorry for him, Sweetheart, he's a bit… eh… starved." That earned him Talbert's elbow in the ribcage. I had to repress a smile. "Anyway, I'm Bill."

I shook his hand as well, wondering if I had ever met a man with such a strong jaw. Not that he was ugly. Quite the opposite, actually. I found him strikingly handsome. Also he didn't seem as voluptuous as his friend, or at least he was better at concealing it.

"Ya know", he began, a slight grin spreading across his face, "the boys been wondering what a pretty skir… ehm, a pretty lady like you, would be doin' in the mid of this goddamn chaos?"

"I'm an interpreter. I translate for the French and in case we get a hold on them, I'll interrogate German POWs. And if it makes you feel better, I'm mostly with battalion staff, so I'm as safe as possible. I hardly believe your Colonel will hand me a rifle and send me out to kill Germans."

Bill laughed heartily about that last comment. I realised that most of the Paratroopers on the steps had turned their attention to our conversation.

"So what're you gonna do now? Are you stayin' with our battalion? I'm damn sure the guys wouldn't mind." He nodded his head in the direction of his comrades, many of them grinning like a cheshire cat. I could imagine why.

"Well, I just go wherever I can help. I think, they won't need me here anymore, so Major Kenway will send me over to another regiment… They will tell me as soon as they know."

Bill nodded understandingly. "How did ya get here? Ya weren't jumpin' with the Airborne, were ya?"

"God, no", I told him, almost smiling now, "I came by boat. I landed on Omaha Beach on D-Day plus one. Then I linked up with the 29th Division." I paused for a moment. The impression of that day still got a hold on me, it was something I would probably never forget for the rest of my life. The huge battle ships, the masses of soldiers… I doubted anyone could ever forget that setting.

Apparently thinking the same, Bill remarked: "That must have been some view. Sadly, we couldn't watch it, were too busy jumpin' outta airplanes." Pride resonated of his voice and he grinned at Talbert, who looked a bit bugged out, presumably because Bill had destroyed his attempts to flirt.

"That jump was the biggest fucking bullshit", he said, kicking the dirt with his boots, and adding an explanation for me, "I was so far off the drop zone, it took me two days to find my company."

I nodded. "I heard about your jump. But at least you're here now. I heard your company is still missing some people?"

"Yeah, no one has heard or seen anything about our Commanding Officer, as well as the troopers from his plane. Dunno what happened", Bill answered seriously. He looked over his friends at the war memorial, then shrugged and continued, "They're gonna turn up eventually."

I was about to agree, even when the chances of the missing soldiers being alive were low, when a shout rang out: "Let's go, first platoon! Easy's movin' out!"

It was the short officer with the mischievous smile, whom had been standing next to Winters and Nixon during our briefing.

"I guess, that's our cue", Talbert said sparsely enthusiastic. The men turned to me once again.

I tried a reassuring smile. "Well then, good luck to you. Give them Nazis hell from me."

Both grinned. Bill even saluted me and then the men turned back and regrouped with their companions. During the blond officer's talk some of them kept glancing back to me and then whispering with the men next to them, but I didn't really take interest in their behaviour. Usually the soldiers got quickly bored by my existence. Apart from that, if the rest of this company was as pleasant as the two paratroopers I had just got to know, then I would easily get along with them.

The officer was still grinning when he gave the command to move out for Carentan. I stood for a while longer, watching the masses of young men leaving the village and silently praying for their victory. Only a few days in a combat zone, I had already learned that war was unforgiving.

Some guy in the crowd entertained the others by quoting the advice given by their commander. I was almost sure he was imitating General Taylor, who I had been working for in England. As I walked into the opposite direction to satisfy my still existing hunger, I just somehow couldn't stop smiling.


	3. La Mer

Hi to everyone who is still following the story after what... one and a half years...? I'm so sorry about how late this chapter comes, but believe me when I say that I have never stopped thinking about it. I have a lot going on and rarely have time to write these days. I hope the people who are following are still up to reading this chapter and new faces are always welcome! Give me your opinion about it :) I'm changing POVs in this chapter, please tell me if it's clear enough or if I should mark it. Also I'm partly writing in French (which is hard since I haven't spoken it for four years, sorry for eventual mistakes). When something is cursive, it means that it's originally spoken in French, but I was too lazy to translate everything. Have fun reading :)

* * *

 **La Mer**

"Are ya fuckin' with me, Toyeboy? No way you got full house the third time in a row!", I exclaimed while slamming my shitty cards on the box that served as a table.

"So sorry, Bill", said Toye, gathering my pool off the box into his hands. "I'll think of you when I'm drinking the tasty, cold beer I'll buy with your money. Hope that helps." I'd really like to wipe that smug grin out of his face right now. That money was half of my goddamn salary.

Martin sat next to me on another box, snickering to himself. "Well, maybe a lousy card player like you shouldn't bet so much money."

The moment he saw my grim face, his smile grew into a shit eating grin. "Just sayin', buddy."

"Is it time for lunch already? I could eat a horse", Bull said, trying to ease the tension.

"Yeah, it's not like we only had breakfast an hour ago", Martin chipped in.

"I'm a big boy, Johnny, and big boys gotta eat. Of course that kinda problem isn't familiar to you", Bull retorted, earning him amused grins from Joe and me and a bitchy face from Martin.

"Oh fuck off, Randleman", he started, "it's not like you… Hey Bill, ain't that the bird you saved from Talbert?"

The quick change of subjects took me by surprise and I only got out a dumb "What?", but Martin already nodded to something behind me.

I turned around to see what the heck Martin was talking about. Our group was sitting in a circle on a free space between our makeshift tents. Martin was pointing at a small figure near the edge of the camp that was slowly coming closer.

It really was that broad Talbert had failed to make a move on. From afar you could easily take her for a small guy, because she still wore the same ill-fitting uniform. The jacket was too big for her feminine shoulders and she had to roll up the pant legs. While her appearance seemed manly, her walk was distinctively female, not elegant, but at least a little delicate as far as the heavy boots allowed it. As she was approaching our little group, I couldn't help wondering what she'd look like in a proper dress. She had a pretty face, I guessed she'd be a real cheesecake when dressed up. Right now, I'd have given half of my salary to see a bird in a dress. The only thing remotely feminine I had seen in weeks were Liebgott's skinny legs, which was honestly too awful to even think about.

"Well, either Perconte grew tits over night or it's the broad", Toye explained expertly.

While walking through the rows of tents, she seemed rather puzzled, but as soon as she was close enough, she glanced at our faces and her tense face gave way to a relieved smile.

"Is Sergeant Talbert here?", she asked in a playful tone, "I'm a little scared he will attack me again with this charming smile of his."

"You're lucky, Sweetheart, you just missed him", I gave back, grinning.

"What a pity", she said, sounding moderately disappointed.

I snickered. "He isn't that bad, ya know."

Martin vocally cleared his throat right next to me. I gave him an irritated look, silently asking him: "What the heck ya want now?" He raised his eyebrows and nodded to the chick.

I groaned inwardly. "Miss", fuck, what was her name again, ah forget it, "that's Martin, Toye and Randleman. They're also from Easy Company."

The girl shook the guys hands, smiling politely. "Nice to meet you, I'm Corporal Catriona Pritchett."

Catriona, that was it!

Martin peppered her with the same questions I had asked her before Carentan. Catriona answered each one with stoic politeness, although she must've heard those questions a hundred times before.

While half listening to her, a movement grabbed my attention. A soldier was trailing between tents, peeping around the corners, plotting something for sure. After watching him come closer for a while, I was sure it was Luz, the company clown. And with that awareness, I was absolutely sure he was about to do something either crazy or stupid or both. He was sneaking up to our group, keeping his eyes fixed on Catriona. I was quite certain he hadn't met her before. What had this fucked up brain of his in mind for today?

George was only a few meters away from us now, a devilish grin on his face and eyes still fixed on Catriona's back, who was chatting friendly with Johnny and the other guys. The moment he started sprinting towards her I only managed to say "George, what the fuck…?", but it was too late.

Luz slapped Catriona's ass so hard, she had to take a step forward to avoid falling over. George cackled and shouted "Gotcha this time, Perco!". His grin disappeared very quickly as Pritchett made an angry sound, like a mixture between a hiss and a startled yelp. I could see how his joking facade fell and he understood the mistake he had made. Catriona turned around, fretting and fuming, while screaming: "WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?"

George's face turned pale, realizing it wasn't his friend he had slapped. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, Mam…", he spluttered wildly, but it didn't soothe her at all. Rather, she raised her hand and slapped him in the face in return.

George stumbled back, clutching his reddening cheek, watching her wide-eyed.

"I don't know what your fucking problem is", Pritchett practically spat at George, who looked incredibly uncomfortable, "but as long as I'm working here, you will respect me, whatever lousy upbringing you may have gotten from your parents!"

George seemed to have woken from his momentary paralysis and now it was his turn to get angry. "Hey, watch your language, lady!" Before he could get any more rude, Joe grabbed his shoulders, turned him around and practically shoved him away through the rows of tents.

Catriona watched them leave with her mouth agape in indignation. Martin had to turn away to stifle his laughter and Catriona looked at me, eyes still burning with rage, when she exclaimed: "That guy is nutty as a fruitcake!"

Martin totally lost it. He snorted with laughter and had to excuse himself. He disappeared into the same direction as George and Joe.

Bull finally explained the situation to her, while sitting back down on our makeshift stools. "Luz invented this game called Grab Fanny, it's basically about slapping another guy's ass. I guess, he didn't see that you're a… ya know, a dame."

Catriona looked probably even more bewildered than before. "Why would he slap another man's ass?"

"Well", I said, "he's just George, isn't he?" I nodded to the table, now missing two players. "Fancy a game of cards?"

She looked puzzled for a second, before remembering what she was here for.

"I'm sorry, I have to report to Capitaine Ruquier first. You don't know where I can find him by chance?"

"I guess, he's with battalion staff, just go straight ahead." I pointed to a broader path between the tents.

She thanked me and was already on her way.

"She has quite a temper", Bull stated amusedly while shuffling the cards.

* * *

I found Capitaine Ruquier easily, going in the direction Bill had sent me. He was in a bad mood as always, so I quickly reported my return and left his tent, still grumbling about that goddamn asshole who had slapped my bottom. I was used to getting some dirty looks or disgusting pick-up lines, but I had never been touched so grossly while being in uniform before. Mistake or not, I had to show these guys their boundaries. If I ever met the soldier again, he would see my nasty side.

I made sure the flaps of Ruquier's tent were back in place, so he had one less reason to complain. Stepping out into the sun, something tall covered the sun that shined so brightly from the sky. I looked up and saw the silhouette of a man, no, a boy, with light blond hair like a halo made of sunshine. My eyes needed a second to adjust to the light. Then I saw his very familiar grin.

"Bonjour, Chérie."

"Louis!", I exclaimed, a smile forming on my strained face. "Qu'est-ce que tu fais ici?"

He laughed out loud and pulled me into a tight hug.

 _"_ _When did you arrive, Louis?"_ , I asked when he released me from his bony grip.

 _"_ _A week ago. My group has joined Ruquier's troups and now we're waiting for instructions."_

I shook my head in surprise to see my friend again so soon. He hadn't changed since our last encounter. Well, he perhaps appeared a little cleaner.

 _"_ _How did you know I was here? I arrived not even an hour ago."_

Louis laughed out loud, apparently having something funny in mind. _"I heard the Americans talking about a woman who had slapped a soldier and for some reason I was absolutely sure it was you."_

"Très bien…", I said, still annoyed about that son of a bitch who dared to lay his hand on me.

Louis broke into a joyous cackling, his big mouth grinning from ear to ear. "Je le savais!"

 _"_ _Honestly, I'm still fuming, so I'd be glad if we could stop talking about it."_

I chose to inspect the bag Louis was carrying across his shoulder.

"Qu'est-ce que c'est?"

 _"_ _This? You won't believe it, but I have arranged something to celebrate your return."_ He raised his light blond eyebrows to emphasize his exceptional organization skills.

Scepticism wrinkled my forehead. _"And how did you do that? You didn't even know I was coming."_

He didn't look the least ashamed when he answered: _"Truth be told, we would have done it without you, but now that you're here, we even have a reason to celebrate."_

He took off his bag and showed me its contents. There were several loafs of bread, some cheese, fruit and a bunch of carrots.

 _"_ _I guess, that's not yours"_ , I said and gave him a judging glare.

 _"_ _Excuse me, I'm fighting to liberate my country, and my country is supposed to feed its brave soldiers! Maybe it's technically the property of the Army, but taking it further, it's the property of the French Nation. And I…"_ he made a dramatic pause to emphasize his heroic speech, _"I am the French Nation."_

I couldn't stop the smile that was forming on my lips. _"You, Chéri, are a dumbass."_

 _"_ _Maybe"_ , he said, emitting nothing but unbroken confidence, _"but I am a dumbass with a bag full of heavenly food, and if it's against your principles, I will just keep it to myself."_

 _"_ _Alright, I give in. I'm far too hungry to discuss your lack of morals now. What were you even going to do with all that food?"_

Louis started walking and gave me a sign to come along, so I followed. _"My friends and me were planning to have a picknick and I thought you'd like to come along. You already know some of them and the others are dying to meet you."_

 _"_ _Why would they be so interested in me? What the heck did you tell them?"_ , I asked incredulously. When Louis smiled in a very mischievous way, I shoved him. _"Tell me!"_

He shoved me back lightly and answered: _"I don't remember all of what I told them… I may have mentioned that you're a Nazi spy disguised as a pretty American translator and that you're only waiting for your chance to erase the whole non-aryan race."_

 _"_ _Are you nuts? What part of your strange French brain did that come from? Imagine some officer hearing you!"_ , I exclaimed, shaking my head in disbelief.

 _"_ _Oh come on, I was just joking around and the guys knew it! We had been sitting in a broken truck for a few hours and everyone was just exasperated. I wanted to cheer them up a bit. And I even said 'pretty translator'."_

He looked at me with challengingly raised eyebrows until I couldn't hold that damn smile back anymore. Louis was lucky he was utterly charming. That may had saved him from a lot of aggravating situations.

Louis piloted me through the rows of tents, until we suddenly crossed the small open space where Guarnere and Randleman had resumed their game of cards, now joined by another guy I didn't know.

Guarnere saw me right away and grinned. "Did you recover from Luz' rudeness, Missy?"

"That was barely 30 minutes ago… But maybe I'll have overcome it by the end of the war."

Louis was focused on trying to understand what we were saying. Now he asked me quietly, if they were friends of mine. I was kind of surprized by that question, having to think about it myself.

 _"_ _Well, because it's already the second time I run into them, in the ways of war you could say I'm friends with them…"_

Louis turned to Guarnere and asked in his very broken English: "You come pique-nique on the beach? You're Cat's friends."

Guarnere seemed genuinely surprized. He looked from Louis to me, a grin spreading across his good-looking face. "So we're friends now?"

I grimaced. "You're still alive."

He barked a laugh, but got up anyway. "Your standards for friendship are incredibly low, Miss Pritchett, but that's only good for us. Picnic sounds like an idea to you, guys?"

Randleman and the other man shrugged and got up.

"Why not", Randleman said, "I was starving anyway."

On our way to the beach I made the acquaintance of Chuck Grant, who was coming along with Guarnere and Randleman. He seemed like a nice fella, rather quiet, but good-natured.

We had to walk through high grass to get down the dunes to the beach. While the Paratroopers were chatting animatedly, Louis hummed a happy tune. I simply enjoyed the salty breeze and my hands being tickled by the waist-deep blades of grass.

As soon as the ocean and the beach came into view, Louis shouted down to his friends, who had made themselves comfortable on the fine sand. They waved back at us.

" _Look who I found at the camp!_ ", shouted Louis and shoved me hard enough that I had to take a big step forward, cursing at him. The French soldiers cheered at my sight, screaming: "La petite traductrice!", "Mon amour!", or simply "C'est Cathérine!".

Down on the beach all of them got up to greet me. I knew a few of them, others I hadn't met before. The first soldier approaching me was Louis' best friend, the medic Gaspard Fleurot. He was a little smaller than Louis but had broader shoulders. His dark curly hair was flopping up and down as he walked towards me, arms extended to pull me into a hug. _"How have you been doing, ma caille?"_

After everyone had greeted me so warmly, I introduced the Americans, who had stood aside.

 _"_ _These three are friends of mine, they're paratroopers. Bill Guarnere, Bull Randleman and Chuck Grant."_

They were greeted as well and we sat down on the sand. Louis had not been the only one to collect food, many of his friends had brought apples, biscuits and even some apricots. Randleman looked like Christmas had come earlier this year. The food was shared equally between French and American and a pleasant hum of conversation mixed with the sound of crashing waves. I was sitting at the edge of the group, between Louis, who told a funny story, and Grant. I was not listening to Louis although I usually loved his lively way of narrating. My mind was too distracted of the sight of the beach. Except for a few wrecked American tanks in the distance, some debris and some scattered helmets, the beach was clean again. It looked almost normal. It just didn't go together with my memory of D-Day plus 1.

"Is there something bothering you, Corporal Pritchett?", Grant suddenly asked me. I averted my eyes from the beach and realized how intensely I had frowned. "I'm sorry", I said, breathing deeply to remove the tension of my body, "I just thought how different the beach looks now."

"Have you been here on D-Day, Miss? I guess it was an impressive sight." I considered his remark and answered him truthfully. "I wasn't on this beach, I came to Omaha beach, but I guess this one didn't look so different."

Grant nodded, his eyes wandering the shoreline. His irises were almost the same colour as the billowing water. I may have admired them longer, hadn't they reminded me of a dead soldier that was floating next to the small ship I had crossed the Channel with. The waves had softly pushed his lifeless body against the hull of the ship, his eyes, eyes like Chuck had, turned to the sky, like he was accusing whatever god was up there.

"Can you tell us what it was like, Mam? We only saw it from above", Randleman entered the conversation. He and Guarnere were watching me attentively.

"I can't say what D-Day was like, but when I arrived there was still a lot going on." It was not hard for me to reminisce about that day. Although it had already been one month ago, I could still recall those sensations like it just happened yesterday. But honestly I didn't know what to tell those three guys who had just experienced what I guessed was the worst month of their lives until now. I could tell them that the beach had been drenched in red. That in the water the bodies of dead soldiers had been swirling around. That the air had been heavy with smoke of exploded battleships and the dust of gunpowder and the stench of rotting flesh. But I couldn't. So I just answered reluctantly: "The sea was full of ships, more than I have ever seen before. The beach was pretty busy, there were lots of people and tanks…Everyone was shouting orders. Bit chaotic actually." I smiled to excuse my lame account.

The guys just nodded, slightly less interested in the subject now. I tried to cover up my uneasiness by asking Grant in return: "Well, what are you doing now? Will you stay here or are you going back to England?" Grant fortunately took my hint. "We'll be shipped back to England tomorrow and I guess, we'll stay some time. If we're lucky, we'll even get passes to London. What about you, Miss?"

"I hope I can get some time off as well, but this afternoon there's going to be a jeep that brings me to my next destination. I have no idea where this will be though. Maybe my vacation comes up soon and I can pay a visit to your unit. I still owe you that game of cards."

"Sounds good, Missy", laughed Guarnere. "You visit us in Aldbourne and we take you out dancing. I'm already looking forward to it." His grin was more than insinuating and I stuffed my mouth with an apricot to repress my laughter.

A few hours of hilarious conversations and heavenly food later, I saw that the sun was hanging already low in the sky. I anxiously turned around to ask Louis about the time.

After a short glance on his watch, he told me it was almost 5 o'clock.

 _"Why, do you need to go?"_

 _"I think so"_ , I said and got up to dust off my sandy pants.

"You're already leaving us, Catriona?", Grant asked while squinting up at me against the sun.

I raised my shoulders apologetically. "I get in hot water if I miss my cab. Maybe we'll meet again soon in England, who knows."

Louis stood up to hug me goodbye. _"You stay away from the action, do you hear me, Chérie? You will keep safe and next time Ruquier annoys you, you come running straight to your friend Louis."_

I snickered as he released me from his lanky arms. _"You're the very first I come running to."_

I waved a last time as I turned around and half walked, half sprinted up the dunes and through the city-like camp. As I arrived at the meeting point, the car was already there and my bag on the back seat. The driver was drumming his fingers in annoyance. As I neared the car, he brusquely asked where I had been. He had already waited for half an hour.

He looked at me incredulously as I told him about a picknick at the beach.


End file.
